White Witch Chronicles
by Zion International Industries
Summary: Most likely will never be finished.
1. The Awakening

Date Started: 5/17/10

As a reminder Reviews keep me from trashing stories not reader activity, favorite listing, subcriptions, etc. So If you'd like to see me move on with this story shoot me a review telling me what you liked or disliked about the chapter. I don't care if they're anonymous a review just lets me know people don't just read and run off.

* * *

To think just three days ago she had seen the beginning stages of what would be a global epidemic leading to an apocolypse. People coughing and vomiting in public.

They should of stayed home to slow down infecting everyone else but how did Savannah, a bright, slightly withdrawn, 24 year old woman still attending college at Georgetown contract something like the Green Flu?

It all was thanks to standing in the crowded subway next to a pale man who looked like he could keel over at any second.

Savannah was patiently waiting for the train looking around her personal space holding her sleeve to her nose and mouth. She was nervous some batch of stray infected mucous would find it's way to her.

It had been a total of two months since foreign person A was bitten by a rabid animal then coughed onto person B who was headed to America. Person B then had a sexual encounter with person C thusly getting Person C infected. The chain continues.

As all this thought literally ate her brain from the inside out she had realized the man beside her had keeled over into the tracks and was laying motionless between the two tracks. Her heart raced.

The people near the man started to panic. One attempted to climb down after him. Savannah was quicker and without a second thought she jumped into the tracks next to the man who had split his head against the ties between the tracks.

Her heart leaped. Literally jumping hard enough to bend the cartilage in her ribs when she heard the not so distant screeching of the approaching train. _Shit shit shit. _Her mind screamed at her. She gripped the man by his large grey rain coat and heaved him up with all her strength.

She looked to the train which was probably a hundred feet away then back to the man. When she looked to him she was welcomed with a spray of crimson spew right in her face. He vomitted on her! She pulled herself back in reflex and in the split second she dropped him he was hit by the train furthermore covering her in crimson.

She howled out desperately trying to get the blood off her. She was trapped beside the train. She panicked furiously wiping her face off. Her eyes were tearing up because some of the blood spattered into them.

She was screaming from the shock of seeing the man splattered to bits in front of her let alone that she was now infected.

The conductor of the train backed the train back and called into metro transit control. Savannah never moved from under the edge of the platform. She leaned her body as close as she could to the metal of the platform.

Her screams turned into soft whimpers. She long stopped clawing at her face in an attempt to get the blood of of her face. Savannah then let a long crying howl before she collapsed unconsious.

Savannah awoke to a gripping, sickening pain taking place within herself. _Oh god..._ She felt sick. It felt like there was a tiny mixing machine in her stomach stirring wildly. Where was she? She looked around her. She was in a light green colored hospital room.

Then down to see she was dressed in a green hospital gown. She felt that underneath the gown her underwear was nonexistant. They must've taken her clothes because they were soaked in blood.

Her eyes focused back on the room.

Green. Savannah always liked the color but as she looked around the room finding it was a constant color in her mental imagary and reality mixed with her churning insides it just made her sick. Cluthing her stomach from the nauseating feeling she tried to remember.

She remembered standing on the subway platform and this deathly pale man to her side. It dawned on her. Her memory took no time coming back to eat at her. The blood. Herself screaming.

She wasn't going to convince herself it was a nightmare. No Savannah had learned a long time ago that kind of denial thinking only made pain worse. Memories rushed back to her.

It was a rainy day she remembered when she was 17 everything was going so well for her. School was a breeze, she had friends that loved her, and a family that did it even more.

Her house was empty because her parents had went out for dinner. Something they did to keep the spark going.

They always tried a different high class restaurant every month or so. What happened after they got home when she was usually asleep Savannah never wished to think that far.

Savannah was in her room. Green was it's color, sitting at her desk typing the bulk of a poetical shortstory. Writing was something she was unnaturally talented in.

Sometimes her literary past time grew into an occasional obssession because of writer's block or just because she wanted to type what happened next until she grew too tired to see the screen clearly.

She heard a knock on the front door from all the way downstairs. _Hmm...They must be a little drunk._ she thought as she made her way downstairs. The knock repeated itself, "I'm coming" she called. She turned the handle.

She refused to continue to remember. Her stomach couldn't handle whatever contents were in there. As a reflex she leaned over the side and emptied her stomach.

The contents were a dark thick red color. _Oh God_. She vomitted again. This time a lesser shade of the color came up. She was throwing up blood. The churning of her stomach was replaced by a burning pain and Savannah collapsed back on the bed in a deep state of unconsiousness.

Her body however was far from being well. Her skin grew paler by the minute as she lay there and became clammy. Sweat drenched her black hair causing it to stick to her face. The burning pain in her stomach spread throughout her body. Making her shudder in her sleep.

It felt like her bones were shifting inside her hands. All of these feelings were only percieved in her sleep by a variety of colors attached to swirling shapes. The pain in her hands was growing more intense her mouth shot open as she screeched in her sleep.

Her body was changing. Dramatically.

That night Savannah never ceased screaming. Panicking. Writhing in pain. Hours upon hours past. Sometime when the light was shining Savannah's screaming had turned into soft gentle whimpers and sobs. Dawn came and she didn't know it. She was trapped inside her own mind in a dream.

It was nothing more than a shade of red she could see. Like a the light off the receding sun at dusk. She was asleep and for the time being this display of color was reality. The bodily sensations of pain had long left Savannah. All she could feel now was her hair matted against the back of her head.

The color was interupted by some sound from actual reality entering her subconscious dreamscape. Most likely some hallucinary noise her mind was creating as an attempt to wake her up from this coma like sleep. The noise grew louder. The black dreamscape was opening. Making her vision go white momentarily.

Savannah let a slight groan escape her lips as she woke. Everything was where it was before. Though the fluorecent lights on the ceiling were no longer lit. Strangely the room was illuminated evenly as if the lights were on.

As she looked around she noticed it was the same light green hospital room. She looked to the window but looked back quickly. The light even though filtered through a curtain hurt her eyes.

How did she get here though? Why was she in a hospital to begin with? She tried remembering but could only remember just waking up previously in the bed and throwing up blood before she blanked out.

The nonexistant sounds eventually deminished. Her hands made their way to her eyes to wipe them but they felt different. They were heavier and boney as well as stiff. Savannah held her hands out to where they leveled with her line of sight. What she saw horrified her.

These weren't her hands. They were five times the size of a normal person's fingers. They were pale white. Snow white in color and curved slightly with points at their ends. _Claws! I have claws! _her mind screamed. Savannah was shocked.

She couldn't stop looking at them. She twiddled her fingers seeing they moved with her voluntary impulses. _Oh God. _They were hers alright. She took notice of the slightly bigger picture. Her skin...Was unnaturally pure white. She moved her arms foward. She was so pale.

It also hit her that her hospital gown was missing. She was naked. Savannah could see her pale breasts lined with goosebumps with they're slightly pink nipples stiffened from the cold air.

The feeling of the cold was taking her suddenly. She hugged her chest with one arm while she reached for the hospital blanket. It was cut to ribbons. She had been flailing in her sleep with these knives she had for fingers.

Apparently these claws were sharp. Very sharp Savannah puzzled at this. She was almost completely bare. There was no use staying in this torn bed.

Savannah abandoned her bed and headed into the rooms bathroom but stopped as the remainder of her hospital gown fell from her new body. It was torn from the flailing and clawing at herself in her pain stricken sleep. She didn't bother trying to cover herself for some reason.

She felt herself warm up and there was nobody around. She continued into the bathroom where there was no lights on but still she could see as there was some on. Strange. She made her way in front of the mirror where her jaw released.

Everything changed. Her skin was the most noticable. Pale. Pure white actually. As she looked closely there was no body hair just goosebumps from being cold.

Her eyes...She noticed her eyes were void. Completely black like her pupils had widened to consume her entire eye. Her hair was pure white also and was much longer than she remembered it from the last time she woke down all the way to the curve of her butt. She looked down to where her abdomen curved into her privates. No pubic hair it was just smooth white skin with goosebumps and underneath muscles constricting to keep her warm.

She looked like some creepy porcelain doll with claws.

Her chest was heaving taking in her strange appearance. Her grotesque and dangerous claws. Tears formed into her eyes. She collapsed onto her knees and landed her face into her clawed hands. "No...no." she uttered in a whisper.

She looked up with her arms spread out and screamed. "NOOOOOOO!" she cried out before planting her face back into her clawed hands. The tears were flowing freely now. She was sobbing heavily.

She had to leave. She picked herself up ran from her room. As so many questions formulated in her head one constantly reemerged...Who was she? Dear high heaven she didn't even know her own name. A few stray tears fell from her eyes at this thought. She looked around for the name slot near the door.

Shielded in plastic and clear as if light illuminated on it, **"Savannah Hettfield" **

An odd urge to touch the name to where she traced the letters with her index clawed finger. Savannah lingered there just looking at her name. How could she forget her own name? Savannah knew she had to leave, she wasn't sure why but just some instinct. She was merely slowing herself down by lingering in her emotions.

The interior of the hopsital was empty, no electric and still as death.

Savannah wiped away a few stray tears and headed to the nurse's station where she found a white lab coat. There was nobody. Not a single living thing around. Where was everyone? Why wasn't there any power?

She turned her claws inward to not tear the coat as she slipped her arms through the sleeves. Slight rips were nothing compared to trying to button it. She could only tear away from the coat. It was frustrating and with a pouting cry Savannah gave up. Her arms wrapped around the coat to keep it closed against her body. She was still cold though she was igoring it because this was only a quick fix until she found something else and had the patience to put it on.

The feeling of exposure still had it's grip in her emotions but she ignored is and headed toward the stairs. Reason being because she wasn't stupid enough to try the elevator. Throughout the entire hospital was dead silence.

She came across a room...Yes something was indeed wrong and it horrified her. A thick dry smear of blood ran across the floor...leading into the room. _I can't...i shouldn't..._She debated mentally. There was a reasoning that she had to know exactly what the hell was going on. If things turned awry...Savannah shuddered as she looked down to her deadly claws. They would become useful.

She swallowed her fears, her uncertainties, and everything else trying to hold her back. If she was a normal human being she wouldn't have thought to go into a room that had a blood trail leading to it. Her steps were quick but so light only an almost inaudible tap could be heard. Savannah edged in. Now she could hear moaning and some unnerving sickening sounds. Flesh being torn apart. Her stomach for some reason didn't feel sick.

She moved ever so slightly foward slipping past the threshhold, along the wall into the middle of the room. Savannah just jaw dropped in horror. A patient. No he wasn't even human. His face was covered in red, bits and pieces of flesh. He was making snarling sounds as he raised his hands holding strips of flesh to his mouth.

Beneath him on the floor was a torn apart corpse with blood pooled underneath it. Head missing. Dismembered. Dressed in a white coat. It was a doctor. A very unlucky doctor.

Savannah's eyes trailed back to the snarling thing eating it. A balding human-like monster dressed in the remnants of what was hospital scrubs. Savannah whimpered slightly looking away. The thoughts that loomed in her mind they just seem plausible. _A zombie? _Her mind was swimming. She ran outside the room and collapsed on her hands and knees and emptied the watery stomach acids looming in her stomach.

The taste was horrid but the thought of...zombies. On such a scale...No...She fell over on her side in more thought. A zombie apocolypse. Perfectly plausible. Rabies simply mutates dramatically and infects a person through an animal bite. Virus is untreatable so human becomes a primitive monster that is driven by primitive needs. Still...She raised her claws to her view. How could it make her into this?

Could a human's physical, mental or genetic build alter the virus to turn them into something like Savannah? Maybe the virus is selective and the rabid flesh eating subhumans are just the half potential of what the virus really does. All these thoughts caused Savannah's stomach to lock up and attempt to vomit once more even though nothing could come up. From there her mind went black.

The monster in the room had taken notice to Savannah and had abandoned his meal to see to what had entered and quickly left the room. He could hear the woman vomit and begin to laugh insanely after. It didn't discern the monster.

He continued to approach the woman lying on her back with her white hair in her face, laughing. He stepped within of a foot of the woman before she swiftly swiped her claws at his knees. He aimed to step foward but her claws cut all the way through and the lower part of his legs fell out from under. Cut completely off.

The blood was flowing freely making a nice splatter and pool of crimson. It seemed to have pleased the woman. She laughed more heartedly. Sickening insane laughter. She leapt on top of the disabled zombie and parted her pale lips into a grin. She pointed two claws into his eyes and slowly pushed downward causing the zombie to scream. Thick red blood rised from his gouged eyes as she continued to push her claws into his skull.

The zombie eventually stopped moving when the woman had pushed her two claws through the back of it's skull. The woman retracted her hand and looked at the crimson on the claws and she laughed and laughed. She keeled over to the side of the now totally dead zombie and her vision went white. Still she continued to laugh until she finally lost all breath and went into unconsciousness.

* * *

Don't say I didn't warn you this was dark. Reviews or PMs regarding the story are always appreciated.


	2. Meeting The Witch

Well I went through some debating on how to go about writing this chapter. I think I did rather well. If you feel that a review is too impersonal and doesn't allow you to fully express what you thought or the amount of critique you have I'm always open for PMs.

Chapter 2 engage

* * *

Savannah was now looking at the corpse she supposedly mutilated on the floor of the hospital hallway. There was a emotion of everlasting shock imprinted on her face. She refused to believe she had done this but the blood on her bone white clawed hands told the truth. The unnaturally pale woman had killed. There was no tears apparent in her eyes this time. Just dire shock. The woman hugged her knees as she tried to process all everything she remembered before going back into a blank mental state.  
Yes she remembered. Cutting the snarling creatures legs off and gouging it's eyes out. The memory was much too vivid. Savannah also questioned whether or not she enjoyed doing this act to the creature. This was uncertain. The emotions of the memory were obscured by some subconscious mental block.

The woman just sat there for a long time. Acceptance however radical was taking it's effect. She was mutated into this creature she was for the sole purpose of killing monsters like the one in front of her. To survive. To establish dominance. The body was a vessel to carry on what remained of humanity and the essence of a woman. Though Savannah couldn't remember that far she had taken college classes for Philosophy and psychology. What she learned had become part of her thinking and rationalization of situations. Much like this if one may add.

The acceptance had taken it's full course and she realized once again that if she lingered here it would mark another moment of wasted time. Whatever remained in her lifespan. She accepted what she'd done. Her legs straightened along with her back as she stood up again. Ignoring the corpse and pushing it out of her mind she walked away heading toward the stairs of the building.

Several flights of stairs came and went. How many one may ask well she didn't keep count she didn't care. One thing that she did keep track of was the animalistic growls of creatures much like the one she had killed behind the doors leading into another level. The ground floor when she reached it was louder sounds of more of these zombies...

The acceptance level within this woman had grown to exponential lengths with a course of a few minutes as she pushed through the door into the lobby.  
The woman had to shield her eyes from the sunlight as it entered through the glass of the lobby. The seemingly enlarged pupils that were her eyes developed features within them to cope with the amount of light within the room. With her eyes no longer straining and stinging she looked at what she was up against.

Inside the lobby roamed and dawdled something close to a hundred infected wondering aimlessly around the ground floor. A select few actually looking in her direction took notice of the woman. They didn't walk toward her just yet but they sensed something different about this female creature standing there at the stairway door. She smelled of a mixture of a normal human, blood and the apparent essence of a woman.  
The pale woman on the other hand noticed they were about to do something to draw attention to herself. She moved away toward the doors of the hospital entrance to avoid such an incident. Carefully avoiding the stationed non moving infected.

The infected that did notice her started to follow. Still debating within their primitive minds whether or not if she was food or some strange variant of what they were. When a few of their gazes travelled down to the woman's claws and saw that they stained with one of their kinds blood they halted in following the woman. She did in fact pose a threat to them. Even if she was vaguely a type of infected.  
Savannah was grateful that they steered away from her.

Her pace quickened toward the doors with beams of sunlight flowing through them. Her eyes again adjusted to the light making contact with them. The woman's feet made contact with the rug that was place underneath the sliding doors. The doors didn't move because of the lack of power.  
The backup generators that kept the hospital in business even in a black out had run out of fuel a long while ago. Savannah realized this and it made her wander just how long she had been sleeping here. Another good question would be why hadn't these wandering infected noticed her in that time she was asleep. These kinds of questions wouldn't be answered for as long as she lived.

Washington D.C. wasn't the kind of place a survivor would ever step foot in for a very good reason. Due to the district's strict no firearm policy for its citizens there was little ammo for pick up. It was a constant hell. Reserving bullets for skilled one shot kills and growing more and more helpless with every round spent.  
As an auburn haired woman dressed in coveralls and boots armed with nothing but a machete and a M4 carbine famished of most of it's ammo she stole from a Capital building guard's dead body, was acknowledging this. She regretted ever coming to this place with the other three survivors she was once with.  
Now they were dead courtesy of a strange infected they met in the Metro subway system. Tears just streamed down her face thinking about it. Bill, Francis, Louis...Why? Why did we have to come here? She thought with tears flowing more freely from her eyes. There was nothing they could do. Louis and Francis as she remembered had resorted to trying to take on the strange infected with with a combat knife and a truncheon. They all died so quickly and so agonizingly that their screams and cries for the pain to stop haunted Zoey.

The infected responsible for this was huge. 8 feet tall, muscled over but not like some infected she'd seen and dressed like some kind of military. Leather greatcoat and these boots that it crushed Francis' skull with. So much blood. So much ungodly carnage this beast caused. It's face. No it was lack of an actual face that scared Zoey so much and kept giving her sleepless nights. This monster had no lips, cheeks no flesh whatsoever covering it's teeth. So it's face was indeed an everlasting grin of square perfect teeth.

Bill was the last one. He had tried subduing this monster with a shotgun. The beast revealed that it had some sort of bone sword that was it's right hand and it easily disposed of the aging, white haired veteran with a simple stab through the old man's chest. Bill died with a smile to his face uttering the phrase, "Killed by a general...Never would've thought..."

Zoey felt entirely helpless to stop the monster because she was armed only with a baseball bat. When it killed Francis and Louis she knew she would stand a chance against it. Bill's death just compacted that feeling of helplessness into her brain. She felt utterly useless and nothing but dead weight to the group.  
This incident was less than a week ago but it would haunt her for her belief of being so useless to the group.

Since the deaths of her comrades and being on her own she has run near bone dry on ammo. Her main choice of a weapon was a machete. Though to compensate for the supple amount of blood that splatters on her with it's use she has left behind the jeans and track top for coveralls with a tank top underneath and boots. The auburn haired woman had considerably changed since she was with the three deceased. She had grown fearful of being hunted therefor paranoid and her kind and nice nature had become cold. No longer did she have a minimalist attitude.

She killed and killed. To stay alive as long as she can hoping one day she will leave America's capital deemed "The nations capital hellhole".  
All these memories, fears, traumas, hopes, dreams, wild thoughts just ran free in her mind as she looked from the barred window of a survivor safehouse. The dawn was here. It marked another day. It marked another day in "The nation's capital hellhole".

Savannah was now in the streets of the District of Columbia among the wondering hordes of the infected. A few of them shot glances at the woman who was clad in nothing but a lab coat until they caught a glance at the bloody claws holding the coat together. The white haired woman on the other hand was watching the infected around her. Never did she expect something like this to take place. All of them had some wound on them and blood around their mouths where they had eaten some normal human being at some point. All of them seemed ferociously hungry. Some were even attacking the masses.

What insanity. Her first priority being out of the hospital was clothes. Anything other than the coat she was holding around her pale body.  
She walked for blocks looking for such until she came across an outdoor mall that was infested with these primitive creatures. Sidestepping most while running into a few accidentally. Those that were disturbed merely caught glance of what she was and moved away from her vicinity.

An apparel shop came into her sights. Just a few more steps and she would have made it until the ground rumbled beneath her bare feet. The rational possibilities of what it was were thrown aside when a massive post human with muscle so massive that it's shirt hung in shreds around its lower torso stomped its way to the front of the store.  
The woman's eyes shot open at the sheer size of this beast. She thought she was a freak but this thing proved otherwise. Against rational fear she approached the hulking behemoth standing there with it's fists to the pavement like an ape with her right hand up claws pointing to it.

It was a less than fortunate male to turn into something like this. His beady little eyes noticed the white haired woman approached with her claws raised to him. He knew better than to mess with this kind of infected. Though this woman looked different from the others. Her skin wasn't grey but a pure white color. The claws proved however that she was indeed related to the grey clawed crying women who went berserk if disturbed. He backed away from her as she made way to the doors.

From there Savannah pushed through into the store still eyeing the beast that just stared at her through the glass. It was rather confusing to Savannah as to why this muscled over creature just stared at her. The woman never let down her claws. There was just too many possibilities of what might happen if she did so. What was it about her that made this monster halt from attacking her?

Her vision started seeing spots again. Her head started throbbing. The woman went off balance and stumbled placing her claws to the side of her head. The pain was intense. Excruciating. Her vision continued to deteriorate. It hurt so bad she began to moan and whimper. The white haired woman had no idea what was happening. Her ears filled wit what sounded like laughing. Her own laughter.  
As if it was on cue. Her mind restarted. Her vision returned. Her head stopped throbbing. Something was different about the woman though. Laughter. Grim. Sinister. Filled with malice filled her ears. It was what happened to her back at the hospital.

Savannah was in the throes of madness. All that filled her mind now was lust. Blood. Killing. A sick craving for causing it. To these freaks that looked at her strangely. Her gaze shifted to the monster behind the glass. Oh yes...Her laughter picked up as she walked toward the glass.  
The monster could see something horribly wrong with this woman. As he watched her trace the glass running her claws over it lightly causing a screech. Her tongue ran across the pane. Her eyes were showing nothing but malice.  
He started back. The woman crashed through the glass.

* * *

Zoey had left the safehouse about an hour ago heading toward Georgetown. She was glad she hadn't come across any hordes. Just a few stragglers. If she had come across an actual horde it would've marked her end.  
The streets of the District of Columbia were silent. Not a soul or brainless monster in sight. Silence wasn't a good thing. Hunters roamed in silent areas because more prey like to be in places where infected are no where in sight. The auburn haired woman shifted her gaze upward looking ot the building tops. She couldn't see any hunters or smokers lurking up there. That meant they were in the buildings watching. Her hand touched the hilt of her machete. Something was watching her.  
The woman dare not draw the machete just yet.

If she was pounced on with it drawn she could end up losing it. The hunter that was watching her however was on the ground floor of a bombed out building watching his prey anticipating his attack. Now was the time while she had her back turned. he crept along inside the rubble getting closer to where she wouldn't be able to reacted in time when he attacked. He stood in the frame of a window. He readied himself pressing his feet against the frame firmly to push off. He launched himself.

Zoey heard the hunter's howl it was too late when she turned around he was already within a foots distance of her. He knocked her to the ground with force. Immediately he tried to claw at her but Zoey kept the hunter from doing so pushing him off.  
The hunter gazed at Zoey again ready to attack again from the other side of the street. Zoey took her chance and drew the machete. She was fully ready. Something was filling her ears now. Something like music far off in the distance. It was growing louder with every passing second Zoey and the infected eyed each other. It was a harsh music. Something like metal. Now she could hear the rumbling of an engine. Her gazed momentarily left the infected to the street intersection. It was a car. Low. Like a muscle car. The music was blaring from it. It was speeding fast. Toward her.

The hunter took his chance and leaped across the street toward Zoey. The rumbling engine grew louder in unison with the metal music playing. Shit! Zoey realized the hunter and kicked away. The last thing she saw of it was it looking to the grill of the muscle car and being splattered against like a bug. Blood and brain matter flew from the beast's head as the car rammed right into him.  
Zoey shielded her eyes from the gore splattering toward her. When she came back and listened closely she realized the car had stopped in front of her. The music she heard sing the lyrics, "Yeah it's Electric!" in a howling tone.

"WHOOO! Did you see that!" a voice shouted in question over the music which it's volume had been lowered. Zoey looked up to see a man in the driver seat with a fun loving grin on his face and a black Winchester hat on his head. Zoey realized that this man had saved her. His car more accurately noted was a black 1970s Pontiac GTO with a black plow welded to it's front bumper.

She looked to the blood on his car. Apparently he'd smashed through a horde. The situation that he saved her from a hunter and her apparent loneliness was probably some blind act of fate. She was thankful for it. She wasn't going to be alone any longer she assured herself. She picked herself from the ground.

"You alright there, little lady" the man in the car smiled to her still apparently feeling the rush of splattering a fast moving infected and saving her life.  
"Yeah. Thanks..." Zoey said making her way to his car. The man was older in his thirties. Handsome hardened face with some indention scar on his left cheek.  
"Where ya need to go?" he asked still smiling.

"Well...Anywhere but Washington DC." Zoey said holding her arm shyly.  
" I hear ya. There isn't a single ammo dump around the capital. How's Colorado sound?"

"Sounds good."

"Name's Jacob by the way Miss..." He inquired her name with his lingering tone.

"Zoey"

"Great. To the Rockies!"

Zoey smiled slightly heading to the passenger side of the car. She promptly took a seat in a seat that looked like it belonged in a race car. The seat belt was like that to. Like this car was built for collision. It was. This thing was a stylish fast killdozer in her opinion. The man looked over to to her as she worked with the seat belt and laid her machete in the floorboard.  
"Kind of woman uses that crude thing?" he asked.  
"One who has lost so much." Zoey answered ignoring a sense that stepping into this man's car was a death sentence for her. Maybe even something even worse than death.  
in the console where the radio was stood an ipod on a stand bolted into the dashboard. It was on the artist "Metallica" and was playing some song called, "Am I Evil?". Zoey herself had heard about Metallica. She just never listened to them.

"You like Metallica?" Jacob asked her. Zoey was honestly going to tell the truth. "I haven't listened to them but I know who they are"  
"Well they have some good driving music for the Zombie wasteland." he said reaching to the ipod turning to a song called, "It's Electric".  
"This one is a great theme for smashing into a horde." he said grinning like this was some kind of fun game. He turned to face ahead of him and literally floored it. The GTO gunned quickly. His right hand reached to the manual shift and went from 1st to 2nd then to 3rd.

He was speeding like a demon fresh from hell. The auburn haired woman was afraid he might flip the car jarring into a turn. No when a turn came up he used this masterful turning you'd probably see in a street racing movie. Handbrake, clutch, shift, and accelerate.

The Metallica song played on. They were closing on a horde which Jacob proceeded to accelerate even faster. The plow took most of the hits from the idle zombies. He was right this song suited this scene. Speeding into a horde and splattering them. A faint smile curved the college girl's lips but it quickly receded with her thought process trailing to the deaths of her former "team". She couldn't help it but she wouldn't show her emotion to this stranger to make him ask questions. Eventually it would have to come out but not now.  
The car lunged forth heading to the edge of the city deemed a district.

* * *

What have I? The white haired woman stared at her claws now stained with a new harvest of blood. Her lab coat was in shreds and no longer covered her naked body. Her black eyes become flooded with tears. The woman collapsed into her self putting her head to her knees and laying on the ground. Around her was bodies upon bodies of freshly killed infected all sustaining wounds caused by the claws of the white skinned sobbing woman.

The tank she had previously laid bloodthirsty eyes on was now a mutilated corpse with its head shredded to bloody chunks of skin, bone, and brain matter along with a gaping hole in its abdomen. Savannah had clawed at its head for several agonizing minutes reducing it to a pile of gore much like confetti. Not before she had taken the liberty of cutting his abdomen open in what looked like an amateur attempt of a vivisection. Rabidly clawing out his insides. His whole gastric system was laid out onto the brick walk in a heap of minced flesh. Somehow after she had done so the beast was still alive where she sadistically turned his head into something equal to the mound that was the remainder of his gastric system.

Her arms were twitching and shaking from swinging like a savage monster at everything that moved left and right. What had come over her? What was this lapse in her memory? Why had she suddenly become a killing machine without provocation? Better question...Why was she so sadistic when something compromised reality unexpectingly?

Savannah howled out crying at her questionable sanity. She fell to her side crying uncontrollably. It was a horrifying revelation that her sanity was compromised to such a state and the things she does during that state.  
The white haired woman laid there on a stretch of laid brick walk that wasn't stained with infected blood naked, crying and praying for an end to such a internal mental torment.  
When would it end? The horrible feeling of being a...monster?  
In the distance the faint sound of a hard thrashing kind of music could be heard. Where was it coming from? Was it just another product of her imagination mixed with her compromising mind? At that point Savannah didn't think much that anything that sounded human was real. TO her it seemed like a vague auditory hallucination.  
The music grew louder. Louder and more clear. Metal was what it was. The music was accompanied by the moaning of an engine powering a vehicle.  
It was so so close she could've sworn it was real. Then a black low riding car of sime sort sped by.  
"Stop!" she could've sworn somebody yelled. The woman raised her head and looked to the street. It was much too real. A black car with a plow was backing up to the curb. Inside was a man in a black cap who appeared to be accessing the scene of all the dead infected. The engine cut off along with the music. The man dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt along with a woman with brown hair and coveralls stepped from the car.  
Savannah was having her doubts that this was a vivid dream. Some hope filled Savannah as the two walked toward her. The white haired woman wiped a few tears and stood up holding her chest in attempt to cover herself.

"Oh Christ a witch!" the man exclaimed pulling a handgun from his jeans.

The supposed "witch" as the man called her crumbled back into a ball on the ground covering her head with her claws.

The man was confused usually witches attacked when disturbed yet this one just seemed to cower. She looked entirely different from the witches he'd seen. For one she was as pale as an albino and her hair was white. She didn't cry. At least not currently.

"What's wrong with this one?" he asked aloud. The woman. The brown haired one approached the woman.

"Zoey don't!", the man warned the auburn haired woman. The woman however disregarded.  
Zoey knelt down to the naked pale woman, "Are you afraid?" she asked curiously yet uneasy as to what this woman might do. She reached for the machete in her scabbard.

"You're not real."

"So you can talk?" asked getting excited slightly at the fact that an infected could speak and resist the primitive urge to cut her to ribbons.  
"Of course I can." The white haired woman said plainly, "This isn't real. I'm most likely talking to myself. It's doubtful that anyone human would've have in some reasonable circumstance found me..."

Zoey puzzled at this woman. She felt sorry for her for some reason. Maybe it was because she was infected and had turned into some strange variation of a witch.

Other words the woman might be taking being a monster of sorts too well.  
Savannah wasn't looking at what the woman before her was doing. Her thoughts trailed into how this is all some vivid illusion. Her thoughts were interupted by a soft warm hand cupping her cheek. I'm not dreaming...  
"I'm real." Zoey assured the infected woman. Grabbing one of her clawed hands and putting it to her own cheek, "I'm real".


	3. Death Wish

Hello my dear readers. I've been told there has been some problems with my paragraph spacing in the last chapter and I have a probable excuse to why it turned out the way it did. The sites spellcheck was acting wierd so I used a different one on another site it messed it up and I basically spaced it out again just not like I did when I wrote it.

This is an improvement. Hopefully. So enjoy. If you see something screwed up in the story like something written that doesn't make sense just pop me a PM or review and I'll fix it.

* * *

Apparently Jacob wasn't convinced about this woman. Sure she could talk and sure she could reason like most humans can do but the blood on her claws and her apparent minimalist attitude toward killing told him something didn't set right with this woman. He leveled his Browning 1911 handgun to the witch. He wasn't taking chances.

"Jacob what are you doing?" Zoey asked with a shocked and scared look on her on the other hand ignored Zoey and spoke soley to the witch, "There's something not right about you...I think it would be in the interests of our own lives that you stay or die right here." he said coldly.

Savannah however merely looked at him with glassy sad eyes before she walked up to him slowly. Jacob pulled the slide on the .45. She was right at the tip of the muzzle. Her face was less than an inch from it. The woman was shorter than him by something close to a foot of difference.

Jacob reassured his grip on the pistol. As he leveled it back onto her Savannah uttered the words, "Make it count" as she guided the guns barrel through her parted pink lips into her mouth. Closing her eyes awaiting for the nothing after that ensued after the trigger was pulled.

Jacob however hesitated. His blue eyes were wide with such puzzlement. His hand started to shake making the gun tap against the woman's teeth. His eyes were wandering down to size the thing that stood before.

Pure white skin and hair. Her figure was a full hourglass though not grossly over curved. Her breast were perky, big enough to fill his hands with small light pink nipples that hardened from the cold air hitting them.

His eyes continued down her form to slender long legs that she held together as she did the crucified Christ stance as she awaited death. Between her legs was the curving lips of her womanhood that would be masked slightly had she any body hair. His eyes trailed up seeing her arms thinly built but underneath he knew she had enhanced muscles than that of a human. Next were her hands. Everything was human save after the first section of her fingers that curved into the deadly claws that would've been shorter and rounded hosting no cutting ability had she been a human.

She had more human qualities to her than monster like ones. Everything registered as human save for the white tone of skin, hair, the inhuman smoothness of her skin that made it glisten and the claws. He was sure she was quite some kind of eye candy in her normal human life though she still was though very exotic.

It wasn't her human physical qualities that made him think twice it was how readily she wished to die. Something was tormenting this girl and the better way to make it stop was through human interaction. Still the dead infected behind her told some violent story that made him wander.

There was a better way. He turned his head and slowly pulled his gun from her mouth. He trailed off backed to the car, "Beauty among zombies..." he uttered pulling his hat downward to shield his eyes.

Savannah's eyes twitched and her gazed shifted to Zoey who was standing to the side with a fearful look.

"Who are you?" Savannah asked holding her head.

"What?"

Zoey just stared at the woman. There was something overly wrong with her.

* * *

More blood on the way in the next chapter. Plus if it works out somehow on paper slight intimacy between Zoey and the White Witch.

I know this chapter is short but I made it that way for a reason.

If there's any problems with the story just tell me. I've gotten a few examples from reviewers on a few of these things.


End file.
